Books like Point Pleasant 1774

With a broader focus than the 1774 campaign into the Ohio Valley known as Dunmore’s War, James David’s book gave me a vivid picture of the late colonial North American and British landscape in which Dunmore lived and moved and had his being. An engaging read as well as an indispensable resource for a historical fiction writer.

A comprehensive examination of the Ohio Valley native nations during the decades leading up to Dunmore’s War. Though the covering of the actual campaign makes up a small portion of this book, any researcher desiring a balanced view of the conflict for land in the Ohio couldn’t ask for a better resource than A Country Between.

Part of the “History of the Trans-Appalachian Frontier” series, this book presents readers with many entertaining and informative accounts of Ohio life throughout the frontier era. The period covered in this book is just over 100 years, so Dunmore’s War, while given attention, is not explored in detail. Still, I found this book a valued and comprehensive survey that helped me to understand the political and cultural factors that led to the conflict in 1774, as well as what followed after.

Yet another book about the Ohio frontier broader in scope than Dunmore’s War, but a chapter in this book is devoted to it. What sets this book apart is its focus on individual men and women who struggled to survive (and in some instances shaped) the constant wars on the Ohio frontier during the period: Daniel Boone; Chief Logan; the Zane family; Simon Kenton; Lewis Wetzel; the Girty brothers; George Rogers Clark, and more. The examination of their lives and the events they witnessed, lived through, and helped shape, lends a fuller picture of life during this turbulent era.

This large, engaging book examines all facets of the Revolutionary War in the mid-western regions of America and opens with a detailed study of Indigenous/Settler conflict from its early days, which gives the reader an understanding of the warfare that later prevails  ̶  i.e. no formal opposing lines, no beating drums nor shrilling fifes, no boldly flying Colours – instead, a secretive, subtle warfare of sudden ambush and vicious, unforgiving combat without rules of engagement or safe non-combatants.

To embellish his text, Fitzpatrick employs a wealth of letters and reports from “The Hair Buyer” Governor Hamilton, Indian Department ranger Simon Girty, Captain Henry Bird, British 8th Regiment, Captain William Caldwell of Butler’s Rangers, and many other significant individuals.

This book features another extremely active British partisan of the mid-west war. Alexander McKee was of mixed blood, his mother Shawnee. He grew up in her people’s society and became a trader across the Ohio country. When war broke out, he was appointed a captain in the Detroit Indian Department and, over the ensuing years, campaigned throughout the Ohio region and Kentucky territory as a cultural mediator between the Natives and the British administration. Postwar, he settled in southern Ontario and became one of the settlement’s elite citizens with the rank of colonel in the Indian Department. Governor Carleton referred to him as “an old Servant universally spoken of for his merits.” In 1794, he was appointed deputy superintendent of Indian Affairs and inspector general for Upper and Lower Canada, positions he held until his death in 1799. 

Angie’s life is a mess. Her mother constantly taunts her as “Fat Angie.” High school classmates torment her as a “crazy, mad cow,” when she tries to slit her wrists in a high school assembly. Her heroic sister goes MIA during the Iraq War; her older brother treats her badly. Angie just wants to make it through each day until a beautiful new student arrives and befriends her, seeing the hidden beauty in Angie. I was revolted by Angie’s abusive family life and angry at the peer bullying. Where were school authorities? I was relieved when a warm friendship allowed Angie to become happy on her own. Though it seems extreme, I’ve occasionally observed similar situations among my students; the novel is horrifyingly realistic, but it moves in a positive fashion to its end.

Entering this marvelous novel is like entering a luxury train and sitting down for a long, wild, and highly entertaining adventure. Yes, it is a very long novel, and yes, it is composed of a single sentence, but once I started reading, none of that mattered—I was ecstatically along for the ride.

What I love most about this novel is that we fully enter the thoughts and feelings of the middle-aged mother protagonist in a stream of consciousness, and she is, quite frankly, all of us with our neuroses, observations, frustrations, and loves. Incredibly, there is a definite form to this novel and a propulsive plot that gets downright harrowing at the end. A brilliant, brilliant read. 

I’m drawn to sister stories, which is something I only realized when I started writing this list, and it occurred to me that a number of my recommendations use the slowburn mystery as a means to explore sisterhood (something my own book does, as well).

I have a sister (hi, Diana!) and we have an uncomplicated and happy relationship. So maybe I subconsciously craved more drama growing up? Kidding aside, there’s something innately compelling about the dynamics between two people who may be very different or very similar, who share blood and memories, and who are tied together, for better or worse, for life.

How to Live Without You is a sister story at its best, as Emmy is the only person who’s capable of following Rose’s breadcrumbs.  

It’s devastating to reconcile a world that could treat anyone, especially children, the way Pecola Breedlove is treated in The Bluest Eye. The cruelty of racism and oppression, both historical and ongoing, feels unbearable to confront. The idea that worth, beauty, and love could be tied to a single, narrow ideal is profoundly heartbreaking. I want to reach through the pages, take Pecola in my arms, and tell her she is beautiful, that her self-worth is inherent, and free her from the horrors she endures.

Throughout the book, I yearn for someone in her world to lift her up, hold her, and tell her it will be okay. But they, too, are trapped in cycles of pain and suffering. Morrison’s writing is unflinchingly honest and achingly beautiful, taking me to a raw, vulnerable place where pain demands confrontation.

This book captures the depth of human experience, reminding me that… show more.